


Homecooked Meals

by VagueOmen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cooking, F/F, Healing, Murder Wives, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, farmers markets, of course theres a farmers market they are simply just wlw, theres no murder tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VagueOmen/pseuds/VagueOmen
Summary: Alana cooks for her family. She starts to heal."Alana cooked dinner for her wife and son every night. She has for the past three years. She didn’t particularly enjoy cooking. In fact, she found it to be somewhat of a chore. Her cooking habit came from a place of control. Not a place of having control, but a place of needing it. She needed to know what went into her food. She needed to know what went into the mouth of her wife and child. Needed to know who put it there."
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: Hannibal Flash Fic #002





	Homecooked Meals

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like one sitting

Alana cooked dinner for her wife and son every night. She has for the past three years. She didn’t particularly enjoy cooking. In fact, she found it to be somewhat of a chore. Her cooking habit came from a place of control. Not a place of having control, but a place of needing it. She needed to know what went into her food. She needed to know what went into the mouth of her wife and child. Needed to know who put it there. 

She could learn to trust a personal chef. She trusts Margot. The night her wife asked her why she didn’t want to hire a chef she just looked at her and began to cry. Margot had held her until she calmed down. She hadn’t questioned it since. 

Alana found it was easiest to trust herself. That was the simplest answer. 

She couldn’t trust herself for a long time after Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. She couldn’t trust that she knew where goodness was. 

She found goodness again, though. She found goodness in Margot. She found goodness in their son, Abram. 

She hoped that Abram would develop the sophisticated tastes of the higher society they now shared a life in, but for now he was still a child. 

It was a cold and frosted day outside when Alana and Abram went back inside for lunch that day. She tried to play with him outdoors every day. 

“You’ve been listening to mommy really good today. It’s good to listen and be safe- especially when it is cold and icy. Do you want to have some hot chocolate with me?” she asked him as she helped him take off his shoes and coat. 

“I want chocolate.” he said, trying to wriggle away from her and into the kitchen, expecting candy.

“No chocolate today. I’m not even sure we have any. But would you like hot chocolate to drink? I think I do.” she asked again, smiling at him. 

He nodded his head and walked off towards the kitchen. 

Alana stood up and followed him. 

She asked him to sit down- and sit rather than stand- in a chair while she grabbed mugs and chocolate mix for their drinks. 

“What do you want for lunch today?” she asked. “Maybe macaroni or that leftover pizza?” she suggested. She tended to always give him two options. He almost always chose one of the two, but on occasion asked for something else. He was only three. Deciding what to have for lunch on his own was difficult for him.

“Pizza!” he requested. 

“Sounds good.” she said. 

She got pizza out of the fridge. She had made it entirely by hand last night. Lucky for Abram, there seemed to be two plain pieces left, If he was still hungry after that she always had the backup snacks in the pantry. 

She put a few pieces for the both of them in the oven to reheat while she began to make their drinks. 

“You make pizza?” Abram asked her as he watched her pour milk into the mugs. 

“I’m heating up the pizza that we ate yesterday for dinner.” she explained to him. 

“Oh.”

“Abram, what was your favorite part of going outside today?” she asked. 

“Play outside.”

“Mhm.” she hummed. “We did. What did you play outside?”

“Car and bubbles and you blow the bubbles all the way up in the sky.” he said excitedly. 

“I sure did. Where was it that we took your car?” she asked. He had a plastic toy car that was big enough for him to ride on. Although, he tended to just grab the handles and walk with it between his legs. 

“To trees.” he answered. 

“Yup.” she said popping the ‘p’. “I think pizza is almost ready.”

She opened the oven to check. 

Abram turned around on his chair and put one foot on the floor. 

“Ah- stay there. Oven is open and the oven is hot.”

“Hot.” he repeated climbing back onto his chair. He watched her put on a mitt and grab the pizza. 

She put the food on plates and went back to the hot chocolate to add a finishing touch of marshmallows. 

“The pizza is hot.” Abram said he explained out loud to himself why she hadn’t given it to him.

“Yes it is, honey. We can eat it soon, though.” She brought the mugs to the table. She looked at him with her own childlike joy in her eyes. “The cocoa is ready now!” she said, taking hold of her mug with two hands and bringing it to her mouth. 

Abram brought his cup to his face and looked at it incredulously. 

“It’s not too hot.” Alana assured him. “Look, I’m drinking it.” she took a sip. “And, you can blow on it.”

He blew on the drink and took a sip. “Mmm!” he said in a clearly cartoonish and mimicked way. It was, as far as his mothers were concerned, one of his favorite speech patterns. 

They ate their pizza and drank their hot chocolate in a shared state of warmth, joy, and fullness. 

Alana found that she spends much more time eating than she used to. Abram ate slow, and he was constantly distracted. She adapted to his schedule and now takes to eating slowly and deliberately with ease. 

She may not have really liked to cook, but she did like making something for her family that they liked. It meant something to her every time her son said “mmm!” about a new food or her wife went “Ooh! I like this one, Alana. We should make it again.” 

There was a knock at the door and the rattling of keys. That would be Margot now. She had to work that weekend morning, but only for the morning. She was back right on time. 

“Who’s that?” she asked Abram. 

“Momma!” he said excited as he made his way to the door as fast as his tiny legs could take him. 

Margot always knocked before opening the door, just because she knew it got their son excited. 

Alana stood up and felt a rush of dull grey pain go up to her head. She hoped she wasn’t developing a headache. She got them from time to time for no known reason. Her doctors weren’t concerned, at least. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” Margot said as came inside and bent down to her son’s eye level. “Can I pick you up?” she asked. 

He nodded and was scooped up into his mother’s arms. 

“What did you guys do today?” she asked him as she walked over to Alana in the kitchen. 

“Play outside and mommy blow bubbles up to sky!” he said. 

“Wow!” she exclaimed to him. “All the way up to the sky?” she asked looking Alana, but still asking Abram. 

Alana smiled and nodded and sat back down on the chair. “There’s some pizza for you on the counter.”

Margot put Abram down. 

He walked over to the fridge and started playing with magnets, and occasionally reciting the names of the animals on them to himself.

“Thanks, dear.” Margot said, grabbing a plate. She sat down at the table with her. “Are you alright?”

“I think I’m getting a headache.” Alana said rubbing her temples. 

“Oh no. We were gonna go to the farmers market before they closed. Do you wanna skip it? We can go tomorrow.”

“No, no it’s fine.” she said and she waved her hand. “You and Abram can go without me. We’re busy tomorrow.”

“Okay, as long as it’s okay. Abram and I can leave after I eat so we can have a quiet night in together.” Margot said grabbing her hand with the hand she didn’t have pizza in. 

“That sounds nice.” she said leaning back into her chair and closing her eyes. 

“Abram, honey, do you wanna go to the market with momma?” she asked him.

His enthusiastic answer had Margot finishing lunch quickly and getting ready to leave. 

\----------

Margot was disappointed that her wife couldn’t come to the farmer’s market, especially knowing how much she loved it, but at least she could find a birthday gift without her noticing. 

At the market she got one tote bag’s worth of vegetables, half a bag of fruit, and some soap. 

She had let Abram pick out one soap for himself (he was getting better at washing his hands without help, so they wanted to get him something to encourage him). He had picked out a lemon bar soap in the shape of a fish. Margot got her and Alana a simple looking lavender and rosemary scented bar. 

Abram had also gotten to pick out one fruit or vegetable to get some extra of. He had chosen raspberries. Whenever he didn’t choose some kind of fruit, he would choose carrots. 

Margot held his hand and off to the side. “We need one more thing, Abram.” she said. “We gotta find Mommy a birthday present. So let's walk through and you can tell me when you see something she would like.” 

He nodded and they made their way back into the flow of the market. 

Abram had pointed to a flower stand, and Margot had to explain that the flowers won’t smell as nice or look as pretty by her birthday in four days. He didn’t quite understand, but she promised that they would come back and get flowers on her birthday. 

She continued to walk with him in no hurry. She had time and she was curious to see what things would truly spark his interest. They stopped near a woodworkers booth. 

He pointed to the bowls and plates. “Mommy likes cooking.” he said with a smile. He was proud of himself for knowing that. 

Margot of course, knew that wasn’t entirely the truth. However, she figured as long as Alana cooks for them she probably wouldn’t mind some hand crafted tools. 

She led her and Abram up to the table. 

“Hello.” the old person in the chair greeted warmly. They didn’t say much else, just kept reading their book. 

“What do you think Mommy would like, Abram?” she asked, gazing at all the beautiful wood. 

“Those pizza plates.” he said pointing to some cutting boards hung up on the wall of the booth. 

“Those aren’t for pizza, baby, but I’m sure she would use them to cook other things.” she explained. 

The artist stood up to grab them and give them both a closer look. 

“These are gorgeous.” Margot said. “What wood is this?” she asked looking up. 

“Those are cherry and maple. With a resin finish on those handles. Quite the display pieces.” they said sitting back down in the folding chair. 

“What do you think, Abram?” Margot asked. 

“I think Mommy will like it.” he said, convinced. 

“Okay.” she said. “We’ll take these.”

She paid the artist and got them wrapped in paper before putting them into one of the totes. 

“Thank you so much.” she told them before heading home with her son. 

\----------

Alana awoke four days later, on her birthday, to her wife lightly tapping on her shoulder. 

“Happy birthday sweetheart.” Margot told her. “Let’s go have breakfast. Abram has something he wants to give you.”

“Mmm” she hummed getting up. 

When she got dressed and headed downstairs she was greeted with flowers on the table. She smiled. 

“This is very sweet.” she said, giving Margot a kiss. “Thank you.”

“That’s not all we got you.” she said putting Abram down. 

He wasn’t very talkative in the mornings. He seemed more awake today, though. Birthdays and holidays excited him. 

Margot handed a bag to Abram, who handed it to Alana. 

“Happy birthday, mommy.” he said. 

“Thank you, honey. Can I have a kiss?” she asked, leaning her face towards him.

He gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. It was gross, but he was a child, her son, and she loved him. 

She opened the gift to find the cutting boards. She felt them and ran her hands along all the edges. 

“Wow. These are beautiful. Thank you guys.”

“I picked them. For your cooking.” Abram said. 

Margot nodded in confirmation. 

Cooking was something her son loved about her. 

Alana realized then that maybe cooking for herself and her family wasn’t a survival tactic anymore, but something that belonged to her. 

She hung the boards up on the wall in display later that day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl I'm not sure what kind of boards are in the image prompt but I just went with it. 
> 
> Also Abram is the closest "boy name" to Abigail (,:


End file.
